Tender Youth
by Scarlette Dreams
Summary: One hot summer's day Sessshoumaru ponders his child hood. I have no excuse for this one.


Tender Youth SD: welcome Peoples, I was reading an Anne Rice novel when the inspiration fro this puppy . . .  
  
Wanda: Please excuse the horrible pun .  
  
Any who, you hear bunches of stuff 'bout InuYasha's past on the show. . .  
  
Wanda: wonder why, With a title like InuYasha it should be all about Sesshoumaru.  
  
I know, but, in the fics I've read, the only thing we hear about Sessy's past is he's sad about his Mom's death and not being Daddies favorite. I wanted more. So here I am. Heh, I thought my first InuYasha fic would be the Sess/Inu ficcy I've got goin' on in my head.  
  
Mystique: which you will by writing next . . .  
  
Whatever. Onward Ho! This will be in Sessy's POV  
  
Disclamier: You can sleep when your dead.  
  
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As I watch Rin play in the field of flowers I begin to drift in to one of those hazy, summer-heat-inspired daydreams that are part memory. Rin is replace by me, about five. I'm making a flower wreath for my mother. When I go inside and give it to her she smiles, not because she particularly likes daisies, but because her only child has given her a gift, representing love.  
  
Now I was older, maybe seven or eight, and fighting with my father. Not physically of course, he'd win without any hitch; he seemed to be doing anyway, but we're arguing. I wanted to go to a temple to learn. He just scoffed, Why? There were tutors here for me, no reason to leave, I could learn here. Eventually he won, he always did. My mother found my later, crying in the gardens. I was embarrassed, caught vulnerable, weak, unguarded. She didn't scold, as my father would have, but held me and let me cry. Later I could hear them arguing, their voices rising until I knew everyone in the house could here them and I was pretty sure that the people in the next kingdom over could hear them too. The next day mother came into my room and told me to pack my bags, I was going to the monastery in the mountains surrounding my father's lands for schooling. I later found out she had sold some of her precious gems to send me. My mother loved her jewels and cherished each one.  
  
After I while my father quit sulking about losing the argument and sent for me. Although I didn't want to leave, what could I do? I left the life I had grown to love, the thousands of books, the teachers, my peers, the musty old corridors filled with secrets, and went home.  
  
I was glad to be near my mother again, though I would never admit it. I was twelve then and it was time for me to completely devote my self to swordsmanship. The monks had taught me the basics and a few move advanced skills, but my father wished for me to earn his stile, and so it was to be. I used heavy training swords and a manor of wooden ones to learn, but once again it was my mother who stepped in to help me.  
  
Once more my mother parted with a handful of her precious stones without regret. She had a master swords smith (who would later forge the two blades of my father's fangs that caused so much trouble) forge me a blade that was fit for me; graceful, but strong, build for technique, not brutal and generic slashing.  
  
I still carry the sword with me to this day, almost a hundred years later (a/n I have no clue how old Sesshoumaru is). Funny, two swords, one from each of my parents; one I use every day and love as I love the one who gave it to me. The other, I carry it in remembrance of my father, it frustrates me. It has power, yet is useless to me. I feel the for this sword the way my father did for me. Honor bound to care for it, yet resenting it in an almost hatred. Lovely Father. I'm so glad you continue to amuse yourself by mocking me, even from the beyond.  
  
In my thirteenth summer my mother died (a/n I have no clue how or when this happend). I remember the days leading up to this, too. Staying with her everyday, watching her deteriorate and being able to do nothing. Even now I wonder if father could have done more and just let her die instead. Going back to my room to sleep at night, then waking up the next morning, wondering if she would be alive when I got there. The relief when she finally died. I was sad, too, but glad. She and I had already said our good byes. I now realized she was preparing to go then, I was just to preoccupied to notice then.  
  
Only a few weeks later father brought home the human bitch and the Halfling whelp. I knew it was his. It smelled like him, only tainted by the human's stench. That bastard, it was one thing to have an affair, but to bring his whore into the household to replace my mother without even a mourning period? I . . .  
  
"Sesshoumaru-Sama! Sesshoumaru-Sama!" Rin called, shaking him, "time to wake up!"  
  
"Master Sesshoumaru, mi'lord, we should leave, there are to rather large dragons who have decided to commence battling in the very field we are in." Jaken's annoying screeches tell me. Time to go. No more nostalgia for me. Yeah.  
  
The End Please Review. Flames are nice. 


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